


A Power of the Mind and Soul

by HELLBENTAUTHOR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Male Slash, POSSIBLY!!!, Super Harry and Co.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HELLBENTAUTHOR/pseuds/HELLBENTAUTHOR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dormitory a 15 1/2 year old boy dreams of a power so uncontrollable and wise. A power that did not choose the Light or Dark, but the Grey. Two beings must join to make One. A convergence of power is comming to Hogwarts as a Moon Child, Wood Elf, and a Dryad's Son. There's also a goddess. The King of the Magical World is here. M-Slash (yaoi), Dumbledore, 'Mione, and Ron bashing</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Power of the Mind and Soul

**Author's Note:**

> #NoNotes

Chapter 1: Primeval Thoughts

Exhaustedly, Harry climbed the step to the Gryffindor Common Room. He was drained of all energy after his session with Snape. Twice every week he was mentally assaulted by the Potions Master, who seemed to enjoy the painful lessons, and it was sanctioned by Dumbledore no less.

He'd tried complaining, oh how he had tried, but it seemed that there was no other way to keep Voldemort out than to pit Harry against the only person that hated him as much as Voldemort and could make his life miserable as well.

Even Malfoy didn't hate him that much. Years of interaction showed that his ignorant refusal of Malfoy's hand before the Sorting Ceremony created a jealous rift between the two of them. Then their daily interactions only fueled the growing hate.

He remembered Malfoy's words with his outstretched hand. 'Don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.' Malfoy could have made a good friend if what their conversation in Madam Malkins was anything to go by. For someone so anal about self-service, he seemed to be very close with his pack of Slytherins. Not that I would ever let myself be run over by someone like him.

But it was in the past. What's done is done. Maybe after the war and there are no "Dark Lords" to kiss the robe of, maybe things would change at Hogwarts. Not that he would be there; he honestly expected to die while trying to defeat the Dark Lord, not for lack of trying. He would give it his all not that Dumbledore or the order seemed to help much.

What was the good of learning to (not) defend his mind from Voldemort, especially when he was not receiving any other form of training on Dumbledore's part or Defense on Umbridge's which, he guessed was also Dumbledore's fault. The most unworthy witch (close) to exist, in existence. He really wished she would trip on her pink shoes onto her pink carpet and stab herself in the throat with that god-forsaken Quill. Rrribbi-… and silence.

It appeared that people were lining up to take swings at him. Umbridge, Voldemort, Malfoy, Fudge, and … Snape. And with how fickle the wizarding world was, he figured they would accuse him of being evil about a hundred more times before he and Voldemort went down. Even his best friend, who seemed to want his "friendship", seemed to enjoy believing the rumors about him. Like with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, wasn't a quality of Gryffindor bravery and trust, he couldn't support his best friend like a best friend should? Maybe he wasn't one.

"Ahem… Would you like to enter dear? You will need to say the password." The Fat Lady smiled down at him politely, but with an exasperated undertone.

Harry started; being lost in his thoughts could have been dangerous. Thank God one of the staircases hadn't moved from in front of him, he would have fall and been the Boy-Who-Went-Splat. "Ophidiophobia," he muttered.

"Good night," she called softly as she opened to grant him access. With a sigh he tumbled through the portrait hole into the mostly empty common room.

Only two people were in the common room. Neville sat the window seat looking at the Cephalanthus in the moonlight. The other person was none other than Hermione Granger, her bushy hair barely seen over the back of the arm chair she sat in, fully distracted by the book she was currently reading.

Neville looked over as the passage shut behind him. "Hey Harry, long night? You know, you don't look too well, are you feeling okay? Maybe you should get some sleep."

Neville, Neville. The DA meetings were doing wonders for him. "Yeah, it's been a rough day, Monday and all. I probably will hit the sack. You know how Snape is and how horrifying one-on-one "remedial potions" would be. I'm exhausted and haven't really felt like a diamond since before the school year." And it was true well not the remedial potions part. Dudley had tripped him on the stairs on his birthday and he hadn't been feeling right since. His body felt weird and he was much more hungry than normal.

"Well good night, Harry."

"Good night, Neville." He looked over to Hermione, she hadn't budged, but that was Hermione. He yawned. Walking to the staircase he began to climb to the 5th year boys dormitory. The other boys were there. Dean and Seamus were talking and joking quietly at their bunks. Ron was flipping through a Quidditch magazine, the chaser for the Chudley Cannons and some other obscure team zipping around the cover.

Ron looked up at him before continuing to flip through the magazine. Just like last year, Harry thought. We try to work it out and everything sounds okay, but no matter what happens he will never trust that I don't look for trouble. I don't want to deal with what I do, but I do. Even when I saved his dad, I don't get any respect. Now I'm part Voldemort, the Future Dark Lord. Just can't do anything right, can I?

Harry got ready for bed while brooding about hypocritical best friends and his stalker, Trouble. As he flopped onto his bed, he spelled the curtains shut and silenced incase he had a nightmare. Thinking once more about Snape he decides to actually try clearing his mind. With some difficulty he manages to ignore all outside thoughts and imagined a blankness… I wonder if the twins will do any pranks on Umbridge tomorrow. Harry forced out the thought and visualized a meadow in a forest, on a plateau, peaceful and quiet. He drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2: A Whole New World, Without Jasmine

As a young boy slept in a tower, in a castle, in Nowhere, Scotland; in a nearby forest, an aurora, emanating from deep within it, vanished. Then upon the horizon, rose a bright star. The centaurs of the Dark Forest knew immediately what it meant and all gathered at the edge of the tree line as the light began to fall. Closer and closer it got, until one could distinguish twin balls of light, circling around each other.

The centaur bowed, as had the thestrals and the unicorns, the merpeople in the Black Lake and the other creatures that run amuck in the night. Even the wild beasts like the werewolves, giants, acromantula and the Giant Squid acknowledged the power and meaning of the presences.

Like meteorites, the lights drew in as if to strike the second tallest tower of the magnificent castle. Like Spirits, however, the lights passed through the magically warded brick, meant to protect the students the warmth and exuberant energy released from the castle itself, welcoming the benevolent Spirits.

Inside the tower, in a red and gold dormitory, on the fifth level, in the first bed on the left, the balls of light separated into two separate forms shaping until outside of the curtain stood a Sphinx of massive beauty and wisdom and Spirit Wolf. Magic rolled off of it in flowing waves. It wolf form was only changed by the stag horns rising from its head.

The beings floated into the curtains and the Sphinx transformed once more into a beautiful red head with gorgeous wise green eyes and a fiery wild temper, love upon her face. A dark-haired man with glasses, savage and tame, powerful and protective, a goofy smile upon his lips took the place of the wolf.

They looked down upon the boy, who even while sleeping also had a happy peaceful smile set on his face. He began to glow and rise up off the bed as they reached down and touched his chest before disappearing. No flash, no swirling vortex, or doorway. Just dissipation into the glow the boy gave off.

A gold current of mist began to flow from his back, circling his body and covering his body from view. Around head was another swirling, wavering mass of golden light that orbited his head. Hours went by, muffled screams and flailing limbs remained inside the pods of magic.

As the sun began to rise, the casing of magic exploded outward. Spreading through the room, the tower, the castle, and the magic centered on 3 individuals. It was absorbed used to activate an inner power in all of them.

In the recesses of the dungeons, in a room shard by two the Moon awoke within one of them, and the other gained the creature inheritance passed down in his Family, though always recessive. Characteristics of the Dryad had been seen in his mother, the Black Widow, whose beauty was renowned for being dangerous but relative to the goddess Aphrodite.

Across from the Boy-of-Prophesy, the third boy's creature inheritance activated. The wood Elf, whose grace rivaled that of a swan, had natural power over Earth that was remarkable, and healing magic that could repair the spirit, the darkest corners of the mind and re-grow an entire heart given the power.

Together they would all share a bond so pure that not even death could destroy it. They are bound magic, and in heart. At the point of their joining, in which they shall destroy evil and rule all of magic, they would also be bound in mind and blood.

N and B with a Big H and D

Harry woke up feeling sore beyond belief. He supposed it was due to growing pains. He reached for his wand to cast a tempus spell. The familiar tingle in his arm seemed strained, different. "Tempus." His wand seemed to temporarily reject casting the spell before relenting. A nearly unnoticeable crack sounded.

Harry looked out around his curtains, while his wand strained under the weight of restraining magic. Harry got up from his bed and got ready, breakfast had just started. He showered, stuffed his books and class work in his bag, his wand in his robe pocket and went down to the Common Room.

It was completely deserted. The portal opened for him to leave and he trudged down the stairs to the Great Hall. He saw no one, not even a ghost. And when he pushed the great oak doors to the Great Hall open, silence greeted him. The Great Hall was void of all human life.

Except for three figures whose stood before a great fire up by where the High Table for the teachers was. Their backs were to him and their hoods drawn up. At first, Harry fingered his wand, but when one turned around, Harry released it, feeling perfectly at ease though the face was hidden by shadows.

Harry walked up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables up to the stairs to the teacher's table. Each step was a new experience for Harry. Power, wisdom, and self-assurance flowed into him with every step, just as his clothing changed to a long black robe with a long hood that rested on his shoulders.

Upon the platform, the three young men, for that is what they were, turned and nodded to him. One stepped up to his side as naturally as breathing. They reached for their hoods for the meeting had begun. As the first traces of light caught Silver locks, Harry woke with a start, squeezing the life out of his wand, his fingers turning white.

Harry sat back and debated the reality of his dream. It was not Voldemort as Ron's snores and his continued life told him the Dark Lord was not in Hogwarts. But he'd had many nightmares that coincided with events that didn't bode well with his safety. It was however, better than his mother's scream.

Nevertheless, the day had started and he would not be able to kill Voldemort while worrying about a nightmare. Following the steps from his dream he prepared himself for his day.

A Power of Mind and Soul (PMS(Too Bold?))

Chapter 3: Dreams and Daydreams

Harry and Ron walked down to the Great Hall. It was just like any other day, no strange silences or missing people, real or portrayed. Though it was off as Hermione had taken a trip to the Library to ensure her Charms essay was perfect, not that it was wasn't flawless, but with double charms first thing, she worried about any "potential" mistakes.

Ron began to pick up speed outside of the Great Hall and didn't seem to notice that Harry had paused outside, food being on his mind. As the wooden doors closed in Harry's face, he contemplated his dream once more. He had once again glimpsed Platinum locks through the crack of the shutting doors. They had been like a beacon to Harry's eyes.

Harry pushed his way into the Great Hall and walked to his seat at Gryffindor table. He had dreamed about Malfoy… he had a possible vision about Malfoy. If this had been about Voldemort than Draco Malfoy could not be trusted, but if it was just a dream it raised many questions.

However, it gave one answer. Yesterday, in Divination, Trelawney had not been "foreseeing" his death or doom, in fact, she hadn't spoken to or neared him all of class. When he had first walked in, she had looked at him with such a reverence that almost rivaled her obsession with his death and had taken to watching him through her bottle cap lenses.

He froze mid-reach for a few sticks of bacon. No! It wasn't possible… could his visions be more than just a connection to Voldemort? Was it possible that he foresaw a meeting between himself and the other three? It couldn't possibly be just a dream, he'd never dreamt about Malfoy before.

His world was so messed up.

Powers of the Mind and Soul United for the Good of Man

Charms class was HELL! Harry's distraction was going to lose House points. Professor Flitwick did not like to repeat himself each time he asked someone who wasn't paying attention. Harry's every thought kept wandering to Malfoy, just like his eyes.

Could the world shatter if it shook so violently again? How much more cosmic bullshit was Universe going to send at him? He was just a 15 year-old kid, but had lost: his parents; his childhood; his friends on numerous occasions; connection to his godfather, for most of the year; had lost a friend to his partially immortal enemy; and now one of his enemies may have switched sides, or he switched sides…?

Could Malfoy be trusted, or could he himself not be? He would have to look into that. Malfoy was subdued through class though. He had been so since the start of the year. Could it be because of the fact that Voldemort had officially returned and all of Slytherin was expected to join him and bow at his scaly feet and kiss he hem of his robes. Doesn't that break the entire Pure-blood belief system, serving anybody, let alone a half-blood psychopath?

It could be him plotting to open Hogwarts to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. If Harry's dream had been a Voldemort induced vision, then that would make sense, but the only reason that Draco and Harry would ever stand together was if Draco renounced Voldemort and asked for help. Not that it would ever happen. He would probably kill himself in shock, or Draco would in shame.

He would find out the truth. He would find his place in the world and he would find allies. He would discover who he was, and he would win this war, surviving and victorious.

Chapter 4: Daydreams and Disappointments

Draco Malfoy, the Silver Ferret, the Slytherin Prince, his archenemy and rival, the bane of his existence and the reason for his inner turmoil had traveled through out his dreams, and now daydreams. In the corner of Hogwarts' Library at a little table, Harry Potter relived his dream of an empty Hogwarts and three robed figures, except this time he knew the Silver-Haired Menace was there.

He recognized the piano player hands, with long, slender fingers that only Draco Malfoy possessed. His father's were rough from his cane and his mother's stronger and slightly scarred from what Sirius had told him was her hobby, gardening. As well as the numerous occasion of dark rituals or punishments during her youth as a Black.

But that realization made it even worse, though having a dream about his death eater father should have been worse, dream about you and your childhood enemy in good standing when it seems the rest of the world has disappeared. NOT OKAY! And what did it mean? Dozens of people have had prophetic dreams as had he before along with his sight into Voldemort's mind.

But this was different. He FELT their presences and power not only in the Great Hall but in the dream were as much apart of the dream as he was. Maybe they shared the dream with him. No, no, no. He was not having the same dream as random people and he one person he can't stand. It couldn't be true.

"Hello, Harry."

"Ackkk! Luna, you scared me. Whats up?" He responded, trying to calm his, racing heart as Luna took the seat beside him.

"I was waiting for you." she answered, looking around the library as if she were in a strange, new world. He looked at her, "Really? How long have you been here?"

"I just got here," she said. Harry sighed. "It's nice to see that the Nargles can be honest, you know they like to play pranks a lot," she muttered. Eyes still wandering the many texts upon the shelves. She stood and wandered to the bookcase across from their table.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Luna. What did they tell you?" he wondered if she were gonna spout some random thing that everybody that her had already know. Sometimes it seemed as if she was trying to send people messages.

She reached up to a shelf just above her head and pulled down a thin, leather-bound tome. It was old, but not too old, nor very dusty as if it had been down often. She turned around to face him, eyes piercing his. "Just that you will save and rule all of magical Britain, if you choose to do so." In a second her eyes dulled and an oblivious smile appeared on her face. She meandered back over to him.

His eyes were wide. "What's THAT supposed to mean? What are you talking about?" he spluttered. Looking at her as if her head had fallen off. She set the book in front off him. It was titled, Magical Creatures: Long Forgotten. "It is as it is. The outcome... we will see soon." she said not looking at him anymore the library's exit as she wandered towards it. She looked back, "Bye, Harry."

As she exited the library, another familiar face entered. "Hey, Luna!" Neville's soft voice floated across the Library, making Harry look up from the book's introduction. "Can't talk now Neville, but the Snorklacks say Harry wants to talk to you, that he has advice for your problem." Neville started, looking at her in shock, "Bye Neville."

After she had walked away Neville turned slowly to face Harry. He walked quickly over to Harry's table. "What was she talking about ? What do you know about my... problem?" Neville said, lowering his voice in order to keep the inquisitive eyes from calling help from the invasive ears.

"Woah, Neville! Don't bite my head off! I don't know anything about it, but if you need help with anything I'm here." Harry coud tell that it was bothering Neville badly. "You don't easily lose your cool," he went on. "I can tell whatever this is its your business, not anybody elses. And it can stay that way."

All of Neville's anger deflated. He sigh, "I'm sorry Harry. It's kind of a touchy subject and any secrets backfire when Luna's around."

"You should have heard what she said before you got here. Some days I think she actually is crazy, and others I just wish she were wrong." Harry sighed. She had warned him of trouble before the Department of Mysteries fiasco, but he still went , and she went with him. And because of his stupidity and ignorance Sirius died.

"Harry, that wasn't your fault. You need to let it go! Sirius wouldn't want you feeling guilty because you made a mistake. He would-"

"Sirius is dead because of my mistake so he doesn't really have a say in what I feel now. It's not really any of your business anyway. He's gone and its my fault and now I've lost my parents and my godfather."

"DON'T talk to me about loss Harry! I lost my parents when you did except mine are still alive. Do you know what it's like knowing that no matter how many times you hold you mother's hand or say your father's name, they will never respond? Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Remember who your friends are!" Neville had stood up slamming his chair back and was now towering over Harry.

"I'm sorry, Nev' I-" Neville cut him off.

He shook his head in pity, "Don't tell me your sorry till you mean it."

With that he left the library, Harry sat with drawn from everyone at the corner table of the library until closing time reading his book and ignoring the world.


End file.
